


Snip, snip

by wolfgun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, but this is still preeetty gay, honestly i think of keith and shiro to have more of a brotherly relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfgun/pseuds/wolfgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith remembered.</p>
<p>He remembered what it was like to have Shiro around, patting his back, clapping his shoulder, and smiling at him as he passed the simulator with flying colors. He remembered.</p>
<p>And that’s why it hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snip, snip

Keith remembered.

 

He remembered what it was like to have Shiro around, patting his back, clapping his shoulder, and smiling at him as he passed the simulator with  _ flying colors _ . He remembered.

 

And that’s why it hurt.

 

He could just  _ feel  _ the way Shiro’s hands slid through his hair as Keith stared at him in the mirror, the soft  _ snip snip  _ of the scissors as his hair fell to the ground. Every 6 weeks. It was a ritual, one they both endured in silence, but not unpleasant.

 

And then Kerberos had happened.

 

And then Keith had gotten the boot from the Garrison.

 

And then he had ended up in a shack, in the middle of the desert.

 

And, after more than six weeks had passed, Keith’s hair was  _ long,  _ longer than it had ever been, longer even than when his mom would talk quietly in Korean to him as he sat in the barber’s chair, glancing nervously over to where she sat every few seconds.

 

He had tried to do exactly as Shiro had done; to cut his hair with the same accuracy and style, but he gave up. It was too much for him to bear, staring in that mirror in the same position he used to, and not having that familiar presence beside him. In anger, he all but mauled his hair. The scissors were put down, and not picked up again.

 

Sometimes, he imagined that Shiro would come back; that Keith was still in the Garrison, and that everything would be okay, and they could go back to hanging out and sparring late at night. That they could go back to  _ before _ , where everything was a lot less complicated and less confusing and just-- _ less often. _

 

But that was just a dream within a dream, something that he avoided thinking about, instead letting his mind wander to his new research. He learned to forget.

 

He forgot, as his bike drifted over the dunes of sand, as the wind whipped his hair, as the sun rose and set and rose again. Keith’s mind was occupied with other things, like that  _ pull  _ he felt to this particular place in the desert, and the stars that glowed brightly in the night sky.

 

And then he stumbled upon the cave, the cave that both started and ended it all, and he thought, maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ that all this was meant to happen and that he was  _ supposed  _ to end up in this particular place, with carvings of lions and symbols and runes he didn’t understand.

 

But as a blazing light fell from the sky, and landed a few miles from his shack; he cursed that thought.

 

Because as he opened that door and found the missing man that shot out of Earth’s atmosphere, out of Keith’s life; he saw the white strip in his hair, the scar that marred his face, and the robotic arm that had replaced flesh and bone.

 

He  _ cursed  _ fate--whatever it was--that made Shiro go through whatever hell he had to go through to end up like this. God, was Keith glad he was alive and well; but he’ll be  _ damned  _ if Shiro was meant to endure a whole year of torture that changed his appearance so drastically. Keith didn’t even want to begin to think about what  _ else  _ had changed.

 

And then, after that flood of emotion, he realized he had  _ forgotten _ .

 

And he remembered again, as he slung Shiro over his shoulder, as his unconscious body hung limply, and his head flopped onto Keith’s shoulder.

 

He rubbed Shiro’s left hand absentmindedly, noting the callouses that hadn’t been there before, the faint scars and discoloration. Gulping a breath, he remembered the way Shiro used to run his hands through Keith’s hair, and wondered if that would ever happen again.

 

If Shiro even  _ remembered  _ that.

 

Keith’s chest constricted, but he understood that a year was a long time. A long, painful amount of time. He knew; but the difference was that Shiro was  _ here  _ now.

 

Keith’s head jerked up as he saw a dark-skinned boy enter the room, taking Shiro’s robotic arm and slung it over his own shoulder, all the while babbling something about  _ being a hero  _ and  _ saving Shiro  _ and--

 

And then the rest was history.

**Author's Note:**

> i thought about it and couldn't get it out until i wrote it.


End file.
